Little theif
by Makoto Kudou
Summary: Someone's been taking yohji's cigarettes, and he's gonna get to the bottom of it! rated for language


Little Thief  
  
Pairings: Hints of Y/?, also YxA  
  
Warning: Umm... usage of cigs? Bad Yo-tan! Bad!  
  
Note: I'm just kind of writing this while waiting for a friend to log on. So it may or may not be done. Leibchen hurry… onegai? The significance of 46 for the cigs? *coughKoyasuTakehitoMikiShinichirousingasongcalled46cough* I also used my own imaginary layout for their apartment area above the Koneko, where it goes as follows.  
[Aya's room]  
[ken's room]| | [Omi's room]  
[guest bedroom]| | [Yohji's room]  
[bathroom]hallway  
  
|stairs||wall| kitchen[door to koneko  
Balcony]den=pathway=   
/rooftop stairs  
  
If you want I'll also draw the layout someday when I feel like it. XP And I guess the dub is affecting more people than I thought, I've already seen a fic calling Yohji's car a jag. IT'S A SEVEN! NOT A JAG! *spazz*  
  
Disclaimer: Koyasu, Koyasu, Koyasu, if I've said it once I've said it many times, these characters belong to you! But- for about $50 you can belong to as many girls possible :D The cig name is mine, the movie is not. I think it's Paramount's or something. Oh well.  
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The pack was gone. What the hell? I'd just bought it a week ago, and already it was gone? Shit, I don't smoke that much. I used to, but she got me off the habit. So where had the goddamn pack gone? I rifled around my room, chucking old pornos and mussed jeans everywhere. Ah-hah! The gar- … it was empty. What the hell kind of trickery is this?! There's a thief in my room, and I'm just the man to find who it is. Let's see… the only way he could have gotten to that pack was by sneaking in while I was gone. So I'd have to construct my trap carefully. Examining outside, I found that conveniently, a drainpipe led from the rain sloughs to the small roof under my bedroom window. It was too perfect. Make a grand show about going out for a lady, go out and start my car, hide it at a parking garage for a few hours, then come home, slip back in my room soundlessly through the window, and lie in wait for the bastard stealing my cigarettes. Little damned thief he was. Wait until he feels the great wrath of Kudou Yohji. But when to do it? First I'd have to replenish my pack without raising suspicion to the bastard raiding my cigarettes. I casually strutted down the stairway into the living room, announcing grandly that  
  
"Gentlemen, ladies, and Omi-"  
  
"HEY!"  
  
"I seemed to have misplaced a valuable pack of cigarettes, so I am going out for more." I strutted right past that stuffy redhead with his ear tails, who watched after me with a lukewarm glare. "This is your 15, Kudou." I turned, hands on my hips. I could almost smell the girls restraining a swoon. "Mr. Fujimiya, who DO you think you are? Tis only 10 in the morning." I smirked and whirled around again, going out the door and walking briskly to the little shop on the corner. As soon as I was out of sight of the Koneko, I let my shoulders droop a little, my walk slow a little. I was tired, God was I tired, having only gotten a few hours of sleep, and the last thing I needed was wearing myself out by going on a walk for something that would kill me faster than exertion. Perhaps I could sleep on my second 15. It was turning fall, so service was kind of dead. Aya wouldn't mind if I took two breaks. Hell I did anyway. I nodded to the man behind the counter, purchasing my most favored-and sadly most expensive- brand. Lucky Dog 46. I once had a friend translate the English to me, and I never quite understood the significance of 46. She smiled at me funny, then asked me for more lovin'. I never can refuse a lady. So I moved, doggedly (oh look, a pun), tiredly back to the shop, and when I re-entered in full Kudou style, there was a definite oppressing air of swoon-resisting. Poor girls. Not to mention the air got chilly when I looked at Aya. Christ, the man needs to get laid. I smiled at him, pulling out a cigarette and putting it in my mouth. Temperature dropped three degrees. "Take that filthy thing outside." I blew a smoke ring and pouted at him. "But Aya, darling…" "I was talking to the cigarette." He gave a little smirk, and the girls gasped, looking at me expectantly. "Fine, fine… I'll take this outside if you'll take me upstairs." I winked at him, and several girls cried out in excitement. Aya snorted, and turned back to his sweeping. He didn't turn fast enough, and I saw the pink gracing the area under his cheeks.   
  
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Tonight was the night. I had everything in place, the cigarette pack thrown casually on my dresser, perfect leather pants, perfect sweater, everything immaculate, the way I needed it. I also had a ladder hidden behind the flower plants under the roof under my window, just in case. I entered the living room, where Ken and Omi were watching a foreign film,"K-19" or something. I did a little twirl to strut my stuff. "Very nice, Yohji-kun." Omi smiled at me, and I grinned. "Why thank you, bishonen. Good to know Fujimiya ain't the only one checkin me out from time to time." I winked at him, and he laughed, covering his face with his hands. "Yohji-kun you're terrible!"   
"Not in bed." I waved a disciplinary finger at him, then grabbed my coat and car keys. Aya took one look at me and calmly uttered, "Not too late." I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. No one knew what I was up to. It was insanely perfect. Have I been using that word too much? I went out to my car, looking over its glimmering beauty and feeling a surge of ego and pride. Then a sharp regret that I had to abandon my beautiful Seven in a shitty parking complex for a few hours. I started it up, smiling at the purring of the engine. "I'll take you for a nice ride babe, I promise. After this is all over." I cranked up a rock station, and sped away, just like always. Tickets didn't matter, they'd never find me if I got one and didn't show for court. I went to the complex, humming softly as I put the lid up and locked my car. Even if it was video-surveillance, I loved my car to death and wanted it as safe as possible. I twirled the keys on my finger, whistling as I exited. I was getting closer to the koneko. Ken had been heavily absorbed in whatever the hell that movie had been, so I could only assume he'd still be absorbed. I set up the ladder and climbed silently, cat-like, up to my window. I'd greased it to kill squeaks. Even though normal people- because assassins are hardly normal- wouldn't have heard it over the racket of Ken's movie, I was dealing with people trained to listen for the unusual. I had to be as soundless as possible. I opened the window just a bit wider, and slipped through easily, and closed it just as silent. I crouched next to my bed, slowing down my heartbeats and drawing out my breath to keep from being too loud. "Ah, I'm going to bed now.. I have a huge test for school tomorrow."   
"Okay Omitchi! Good night!"  
"Good night…"   
I waited and waited, listening to the gentle footsteps of my favorite teenage "brother." Coming up to my room, going by the door, and fading as he entered his own room. One down, two to go. There was silence for a while, then I heard Ken and Aya quietly talking. Apparently the movie was over. Funny, I didn't think they talked much.   
  
"… its just, sometimes I worry about him. I know he's old enough to take care of himself, but I look at his face and I see how much he misses her. I wish I could help."   
  
"Well, he deals with things the way he can. Its his own kind of therapy… I think everyone has their own. Like- you have soccer." There was more silence, and I could only imagine Ken wordlessly agreeing, his hair bouncing in front of his dark eyes. "I have to get up early tomorrow and wait for our next truck order. Don't wait up for him too long." There were two quiet good nights, and then sounds of Aya's quiet footsteps moving along the hall. He picked up his feet as he walked, so there were only distinct thuds, almost silent if you didn't know what to listen for. He approached my bedroom, then walked past after a brief stop at the door, the whole time in which I held my breath, waiting for him to turn the knob… but he didn't, and went to his bedroom. Well… either I had finished off the whole pack or it was Ken. But Ken was a health-nut, why the hell would he be smoking?  
  
"Here, I think you need this more than I do. Remind me to teach you some pick-up lines."  
  
"Yohji, I can hardly stand the smell, why do you think I'd-"  
  
"Geez Ken, quit hacking so loud! You're going to get us blown!"  
  
So I settled down on the bedroom floor and stared at the ceiling, waiting for Ken to come upstairs, and go past my door. Maybe I'd finished the whole pack without noticing, or the girl I had this weekend took a few while I wasn't looking. Stupid brawd, knew there wasn't something right about her… There was the gentle shuffling of footsteps, Ken's footsteps, and they moved up the stairs. I continued slowing my body so as to hear him. He paused in front of my bedroom door, and I shrunk lower behind the bed. He opened the door, going to the dresser. I heard him faintly rummaging about, then listened to the smooth sliding of tobacco-stuffed paper against thicker stuff. That little bastard… but I paused. I wanted to see what he was doing. There was a silence, and I could only guess he'd sprung for his own lighter as he left my room. Or maybe he just liked sucking 'em. There was this one guy I knew at a bar, he never smoked, just sucked the tobacco dry right through the filter. Guess it was healthier for him. I waited until I heard Ken's footsteps going to his room, but they weren't. They were going in a different direction. To the roof stairs. I crept wordlessly to the door, listening as our favorite soccer player moved wordlessly up the iron steps, them hardly creaking. So I'm not the only one who knows the forbidden secrets of grease. I waited until I could be positive he was on top, and then made my move. I slipped from my bedroom, and moved out onto the balcony, watching up above. He wasn't sitting on the ledge facing me, so I climbed up the stairs, and finally spied him on the opposite ledge, smoking away and staring at the cityscape, sitting. "Hey." He turned, a bit startled, and relaxed, a cigarette clenched in his fingers, the way I hold them. "Hey." I moved to him, sitting with him on the ledge and looking up at the sky. "You want some? It is your cigarette." I nodded, taking it from him and giving a little drag before handing it back. "How was the date?" "Ah, it was okay. Coulda been longer. She was a no-show." I smirked at him, all the while the back corner of my mind worrying over my baby, my beautiful dark green sleek baby among all those damned strangers. "I didn't hear your car pull up." "Well you didn't hear me enter either, the movie was so goddamn loud. I'm surprised you didn't receive complaints." We grinned at one another, and I looked up at the stars, leaning back on my palms. "… So, you stole my cigarettes?" I looked at him out of the corner of one eye, and he looked down at the little butt in his hand, frowning. "Well… yeah… I'm too shy to buy my own. If you want I'll give you the money for the last pack, I smoked most of 'em. You don't smoke as much as we think, Yohji-kun." I shrugged. "No I guess not. Keep your money." He smiled, offering me the last couple drags. I shook my head, taking it and grounding it out on the asphalt. "Do you smoke them to past the filter? Its dangerous, Ken." He shrugged his shoulders. "It feels different that way. Besides, I have a chance of dying every mission. Its okay if I dance the line a little in between, isn't it?" He looked at me and I looked back, smiling a little. "Such elegant words and yet a girl says hi and you're sputtering for a syllable." Ken frowned at me, his hands on his waist. Such a cute idiot. "Yohji-kun she said more than "hi!" She asked for my number!" I shrugged, and ruffled his hair, before standing up and dusting off my ass. "Don't stay out here too late, Kenken. Don't want to start taking double breaks like me." He smirked up at me as I extended a hand to him, helping him up. "Yohji, you're a trip." he said, looping an arm around my shoulders as we went back to the stairs.   
  
"No, I think you're more of a trip. After all, you've had more falls than me."   
  
"Yohji!"  
  
"I'm just playin'…"  
  
"You can forget me paying you back for the cigarettes!"  
  
"Oh go on and buy your own…"  
  
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Written in one sitting with absolutely no point! Whee! Its bedtime, and Leibchen still isn't online *sniffle*. Alright ladies, gents, Omi. ("HEY!") good night. ^_^ 


End file.
